Redline
by LeFire
Summary: Set in a wasteland town, this story follows the adventures of a survivor named Ravern LeFire.


Through the Wasteland 

Redline

Ravern LeFire stopped the self-commentary that he was running in his head and let the spent stimpack 'shooter' slip from his fingers to land at the dust at his feet. He regarded the crowd with a wary look.

The man who called himself Rico was staring back at LeFire with unconcealed rage while nursing his black eye. The little man had earned the shiner after pulling out a knife and attempting to rob LeFire of his backpack. A quick jab to the right eye and a wristlock had made the thug regret his actions, as well as earning LeFire a second-hand knife… But now the fellow was back with a vengence together with three others, two of them armed with a battered but mean-looking double-barrelled shotgun and a pistol that LeFire identified as a Beretta 9mm.

"Comon lads… I say we waste im'… Can't let these raider sons-of-brahmin ride roughshod all over us, can we?"

One of the men, standing to the right of Rico, a huge man with a face of weather-beaten stone, took a step forward. 

Now!

LeFire sprung into action, leaping forward and grabbing the front of the huge man's coveralls before he could react. Ducking and running past, he gave the fellow a powerful twist while slipping past under the man's swinging left arm.

Normally, such a hulk of a man would hardly be budged by the average-sized LeFire… But the latter had surprise on his side and had caught the thug off-balance. As the man tripped, LeFire lunged past and sprinted for cover.

Rico, his face contorted in rage, grabbed for him just as some instinct of LeFire warned him to duck.

There was a loud blast, LeFire feeling the sudden sting of a shotgun pellet grazing his cheek. Rico got off far worse, catching two of the small lead balls in the right cheek. They tore through in a welter of blood, shattering his teeth and knocking him over flat on his back.

Behind them, the thug who had fired staggered from the recoil. His shotgun, old and worn as it was, had been corroded so badly due to the lack of maintenance that the chambers of the twin barrels had been rusted through… A second blast fired uselessly into the air, the round touched off by the firing of the first shell. The man lost his balance and fell to land heavily on his backside.

The fourth man cursed, holstering his pistol as LeFire snatched a look back at him… As the latter had known by the lack of a magazine in the Beretta… The thug had no ammo for it.

LeFire lost no time in sprinting off as Rico sat up gurgling like a village idiot while spitting the fragments of his teeth out of his mouth, the flap of his right cheek hanging in tattered rags from his face.

Zig-zagging through the rusting cars and weather beaten junk that had been piled up by the town inhabitants for shelter, LeFire searched desperately for a hiding spot. He had been a medical student in the days before the Old World had come to an end. Rico's wounds had been nasty… but they were certainly not fatal, not with the availability of regenerative medical kits, stims, and what-not.

One of the golden inventions in the medical field during the old days had been of genetically modified human cancer cells. Combining the organisms' aggressiveness and speed of growth together with the genes of genotype-replicator viruses, researchers had succeeded in creating a dormant form of pre-packed and effective emergency medical aid.

Basically, the 'regencells', as they came to be known, were stored in vacuum tubes with one-use needles… these were stimpacks, or using their more common name, 'shooters'. More aggressive regencells like those used in Super-stims repaired the body at high speed, but had nastier side-effects as the body strained to cope with the demands of the fast-growing cells.

The regencells, when injected into tissue, automatically began searching out genes of other cells to copy. Since every single cell of the human body held the original blueprints of the whole, the regencells would immediately multiply rapidly to regenerate damaged body parts according to the original 'plans' of the person. The regencells had been designed not to be rejected by the human immune-defence system and lived on as harmless 'parasites', depending on the human for oxygen and nutrients while replacing damaged or lost organs and tissue to keep their host alive.

The new technology was capable of replacing lost limbs, for example, fingers. However, since the templates of the new tissues had been replicated from the body's original tissue, with the original cell-age, no one would end-up with a baby-sized finger or worse, tiny 'little tribals'.

LeFire bolted into a small alleyway that brached off from the main… However, it soon led to a cul-de-sac. He turned, just in time to be knocked flat on his face by a tremendous blow to the back of the head.

When he came to, his head was throbbing terribly. It took him some time before he started to think again. He tried to sit up, but a sudden touch of cool steel at his throat made him freeze in position. Besides, he ubruptly found that his hands had been binded together by wire.

He turned his eyeballs, scarcely daring to move.

To his considerable surprise, his captor was a woman.

LeFire blinked twice, focusing on her face. She was a good-looking woman, one who far exceeded the standards of the wasteland… While others often walked around missing a few fingers or worse, the only scars that he saw on this one was a long jagged one that ran from the bottom of her right ear to the tip of her chin. In the dark of their shelter… he noticed that he was in a trailer that had been twisted in half… her eyes appeared violet. He stared at them, half fascinated. The scar appeared to gleam in the half-light.

Her next words shattered any romantic allusions that were starting to hatch in his mind.

"Darn… I wish I had gotten rid of you earlier rather than in here. Waste of a good hiding spot… you'll stink up the place for days." Her lips pressed together in the matter of a student vexed by an irritating mathematical problem that had to be solved at the cost of plenty of hassle. The gun that she held to his throat didn't move, its muzzle aimed straight up at his medulla cortex.

"What? Ok, let's slow down a little bit here… Why the heck do you want to kill me?" LeFire stammered. A quick glance revealed that she was the only one there… there was no sign of Rico or his thugs. He remained frozen, knowing from her words that this demented woman would probably consider killing him so more than a slight inconvenience.

She looked at him for a moment, before giving the barest hint of a nod.

"Ok… If that helps you die snug in the knowledge of what had caused me to remove you from the picture." She gave a smile, which, despite her good looks, somehow reminded LeFire of the expression of a death-mask.

"You see, I'm trying to make myself scarce in this town… Happens that the locals here don't give a hoot about outsiders here, so I decided to do the smart thing and stay out of the way."

She rolled her eyes.

"Then guess what… Just as I found myself a good spot to spend the night in shelter rather than sleep in the wasteland and become some radscorp's late-night snack, YOU had to come along and mess up my arrangements."

"But…" LeFire stammered. "I didn't see you! You can just let me go on my way. I certainly ain't the type to rat on you."

"Sounds good in theory, but I can't take the risk of you having seen me. Couldn't kill you there, the dogs will soon come to my hide and attract humans. So I figured that I ought to do the right thing and drag you… you're a heavy guy for your frame, you know… to somewhere where you won't attract too much attention." The woman gave him another brillant grin.

"Satisfied? Now that you've seen my face, I will certainly have to kill you. Now, stay nice and still and I promise that it'll be quick and clean… One shot, you won't feel a thing, my guarantee."

"Wait! Wait! You can't kill me!" LeFire hurriedly said. "Half the population of this stinking place will hear the shot and they are going to kill you too for being an outsider." He was desperate, trying to stall for time.

The woman looked at him frankly, the gun still held firmly in her hands, then gave an resigned shrug.

"True. Smart of you there."

Her left hand slipped off the pistol and reached for the hilt of a broad-bladed knife that hung from her left hip. The word "Ripper" had been lovingly carved into the handle.

"It'll be messy… but a lot quieter. Thanks for reminding me."

LeFire immediately started to struggle uselessly against his bonds, to the woman's displeasure.

"Hold still… you are making this a lot harder for me. Yourself too… People die all the time… At least be thankful that yours will be by a professional who knows how to do it quick and clean." She muttered as one of her seemingly-thin hands held him down by the hair with a steely grip and the other holstered the pistol, removing the knife in a smooth, economical movement.

"Hang on! I have stuff that you might like! Say we trade!…. Uh, ok fifty percent discount! Aww man… comeon. OK, OK! Free! What do you say?"

She looked at him crossly. "Quit being stupid! Why can't I just save the trouble and take the stuff after you are dead? It's bad enough having to kill you so close to my hide and end up with the stink and scavengers around. Now I have to deal with stupidity too… Darn it." A part of LeFire's mind that retained his rationality noted that she has a rather pleasing accent. Probably from the Old World country Britain.

LeFire had one last card to play. "Ok… I will go with you someplace further, ok? I'll cooperate, just don't kill me yet."

She looked rather vexed, but allowed him to stand and shuffle in front of her. He noted that she had removed his boots and placed them in her backpack… Very smart… Few people could run long or survive in the wasteland without footwear. Likewise, his backpack was already hers.

As they moved further into the massive junkyard, LeFire attempted to engage her in conversation.

"You seem to have a mission… Who are you working for? The raiders?"

She ignored him. So he tried again.

"Comeon, you are going to get rid of me some way or the other. Give a man some answers so that he does not die an ignorant fool. What do you say? You are pretty civilised for a raider, so grant me my wish, won't you?"

His captor remained quiet and LeFire despaired of being able to appeal to her good side… if there was any… He started going slowly in hopes of getting an opportunity to escape before she carried out the unavoidable. However, she spoke up a minute later.

"I work for a faction called the Brotherhood of Steel. Our aim? To bring a new order to this chaos, of course…" She paused for a moment, as if reconsidering her decision to provide him with information. LeFire stopped and turned to look at her, but she didn't object and continued.

"You see, there happens to be a complex of caves to the south of this town. My superiors believe it to be the home-base of a large group of raiders. My squad was sent to investigate yesterday evening." She gave a grim look.

"The bastards were real smart… And I made a terrible mistake of being overconfident. The first sign I had of something being very wrong was when a landmine took off one of my squaddies' legs. We didn't stand a chance… came under heavy fire moments later… Four people gone just like that, cut down by a heavy gun, probably a .50 heavy machine-gun on a tripod."

"I got out… Together with my medic, we got back to the town using the cover of night. He was nearly gone, half of his face a ruin, blinded and in terrible pain. I don't know a thing about medicine except giving myself the occasional shooter… And because I couldn't help… he died last night." The woman looked up at LeFire now. There was a slight moistness in her eyes.

"I couldn't save him. Heck, didn't even have time to give him a decent burial…" She bit her lip and was silent.

"You said southwards…" LeFire began cautiously, not having the desire to be slaughtered because of a wrongly-chosen word by a very depressed and deadly Brotherhood soldier… whatever the 'Brotherhood' was, he didn't know anyway.

"I know the place… In fact, I was there last night and heard some firing in the distance. Like any smart survivor, I kept my head down, of course."

She looked doubtful, so LeFire carried on.

"There is a certain rock formation to the south that looks like a bear sitting on its rear. And nearby lies the wreck of a schoolbus that used to be yellow in colour and a trailer truck lying on its side." LeFire saw the sudden interest in her eyes and continued, scarcely daring to feel hope.

"I know of a back entrance to the place… used it as a shelter last night. Judging from the tracks, it has never been used by humans for a very long time save myself. I nearly walked into the minefield too… but spotted a glint of moonlight on one before I blew myself up."

The look in her eyes was enough. "I'll bring you there… in return for my life." LeFire replied… and this time the smile she gave didn't look too bad at all.

"You can call me Redline. That is what my squad calls… called me."

Later that night, both of them were crawling through the rock debris towards the spot that LeFire remembered. It was a moonless night, but Ravern had trained himself to read tracks and navigate by night with experience. For Redline, it was simple work… her speciality was stealth anyway.

"Look up ahead." LeFire whispered to her. "See the two rocks that form an inverted 'V' ? The entrance is a couple of meters to its right."

Redline nodded slightly in the gloom and moved forward to the opening, LeFire following close after.

He nudged her shoulder… "We are going into danger, and you are not even giving me a weapon. What do you want be to defend myself with if we get attacked? Foul language?"

"Really, LeFire… If I gave you a weapon, what would stop you from shooting me the moment my back was turned?" The side of her mouth quirked up in yet another one of her amused smiles, her scar glinting in the night as moonlight highlighted her features.

"You look the honest sort… But put a gun into your hands and watch the wolf throw off the sheep's clothing. And I think that you will not have just thoughts of escape on your mind if you catch me helpless." She narrowed her eyes. "Try anything funny… and my ripper will end your family line."

LeFire squirmed… She was a little close to his fantasies… He hurriedly gave her an affirmative nod.

"Ok." She said breezily as if they were discussing nothing more significant than the weather. "Let's check out this little tunnel."

With LeFire leading, they made good time. Before long, cracks in the walls of the rock tunnel were revealing a soft yellow light that flickered. They slowed down, moving with painstaking care and keeping their mouths slightly open to hear better… Voices… They were inside the raider base.

LeFire stopped and pushed himself against the wall of the tunnel. Reaching back, he gently grasped her hand and pointed her towards a outjutting piece of rock that bulged into the tunnel. As she crawled level with him, he leaned close and whispered into her ear.

"That rock can be pushed aside to allow access to the back of large cave… I guess that it's a rest and sleeping area." She squeezed his hand in reply and squirmed past.

It was a slight squeeze… and LeFire felt more than he should as she went past. She gave him an exasperated look and a warning glare… but this time it was LeFire's turn to grin at her… There wasn't too much he could do to avoid the contact, anyway.

Redline eased herself into a cramped half-crouch next to the rock and drew her pistol, glancing back to see what LeFire was doing. He was pulling himself back along the tunnel and flattening himself to present a smaller target to any stray bullets… Smart. He might make a good BOS initate someday…

She pushed the rock aside, unfolding her lithe body in one smooth cat-like movement… straight into the arms of trouble.

The three men, raiders from their mix of mismatched clothing… the latter stolen from the dead… stopped short and stared mouths agape at her. Two of them were eating something from a steaming bowl on a battered wooden table, another sitting more to the left cleaning a stripped .50 heavy machine gun.

Her Beretta was up and firing in one swift movement. Time seemed to slow down as the head of the leftmost eating men exploded, the features of his face crumpling and flying off like shredded paper from the impact of two 9mm bullets.

The raider on the right fell away, screaming in terror as he sprayed the area with fire from an Uzi sub-machinegun. Redline felt the bone-jarring impact of a slug ricocheting off the right shoulder of her armour, made from tough Brahmin hide. The blow staggered her, making the Beretta slip from her grasp.

Before the raiders could take advantage of their good fortune, she was leaping to the side, drawing the Ripper with a smooth movement and swinging it around in a eviscerating arc.

The effect was spectacular, the mini-chainsaw, activated by the contact, ripping through tissue and bone in an eyeblink. The man's right forearm fell away still holding the Uzi, blood spraying as Redline brought the blade back in a backhanded return swing, shrieking a battle cry herself.

The second blow nearly cut the man in two… bodily fluids and intestines spilling from him as the dismembered halves toppled from the dining chair. Redline spun around, just in time for a savage blow from a hammer that smashed into her left wrist.

Through the mist of her bloodlust, she could hear the sharp snap as her bones broke… The pain came an instant later, staggering her as she shrieked and stumbled backwards to crash into the wall… Another blow came, this time hammering into her ribs as she collapsed.

She swung wildly… was rewarded by an short yelp of pain as the serrated blade of the Ripper tore through the clothing of her assailant to hit flesh.

He stood before her now, a massive thug with a wicked slash on his shoulder dripping red as he drew back the claw hammer to strike a blow that she had no hope or strength to stop…

And the world exploded in thunder… The raider lifted off his feet by the impact of half a dozen slugs to fly sideways in a welter of blood and flying tissue.

He smacked into the wall and bounced off, flopping like a puppet with its strings cut to land at her feet. His head thumped onto the hard dirt floor with a resounding 'thwack'.

She sank back against the wall, the pain threatening to overwhelm her as LeFire stood there, smoking Uzi in his hands.

Redline sat there winded, her ears ringing as she attempted to grab her late medic's doctor-bag from her backpack. Her fingers, normally utterly precise and deadly, were not cooperating.

LeFire, one hand still covering the door, strode quickly to her. For a second, he stood there and stared at her… both of them understanding that LeFire was the one in charge now. Then, he grabbed her not unkindly by the scruff of her collar and pulled her to cover behind some storage crates.

LeFire didn't know if any of the other guards had heard the gunfire… During his previous nocturnal visit, he had seen only recent tracks but not a single soul. The .50 heavy machine gun was lying against the wall of the cave in plain view… there was probably only the three men in the bunker, judging from the number of make-shift beds. But it was always better to be safe.

He told her firmly to stay and proceeded to check out the place with his Uzi… There was no one else… It appeared that the three raiders were the only ones present. He quickly returned to Redline's side.

LeFire grabbed a set of emergency regen chems from the black bag and wrapped the applicator around her left forearm above the distended wrist, making sure that the chem was ready by pulling off the safety seal on the trigger.

He looked at her and gave a grim smile. "Sorry about this… But the bone isn't going to reset itself… Stims and doctor chems can heal them, but resetting it the old way saves healing time. Grab on to something and bear with it."

Now it was her turn to protest. " Wait a minute… how do I know if you ain't going to mess me up worse? You are not a qualified medic… just get me back to the bunker and the BOS healers will take care of me."

LeFire gave a little sigh and leaned back. Abruptly, he was in sudden movement, snapping his head around to the right and hissing "Who's that!"

Redline turned as well… and LeFire yanked her broken wrist back into position with a sickening 'pop'.

She screamed and curled up in agony, cursing him terribly and flailing at his face with her good hand as he held her tight in his grip, blocking her ineffectual blows with his shoulder. With the other hand, he pulled the trigger of the chems, allowing a wash of regencells to patch up the broken but re-positioned bone.

A few minutes later, she wiped the tears off her face with her good hand… She had been weeping openly in front of him… The sheer nerve of him pulling off such a nasty trick on her!… She looked for the pistol that he had laid beside her and pointed it at him.

"You ain't going to shoot me now, aren't you?" LeFire sat in front of her calmly, the doctor's bag in front of him.

Seconds passed, their eyes fixed in a stare… violet eyes and blue-grey eyes meeting in a long gaze…

She lowered the pistol….

"Thanks." She smiled… and LeFire could finally feel real warmth behind it now.

_[dns@interplaygames.com][1]_

   [1]: mailto:dns@interplaygames.com



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